


Kiss Me Just Once For Luck (These Are Desperate Measures)

by wait_for_it



Series: Can't Let This Go (When I've Got You Right Where I Want You) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Babbling, Comforting Derek, Derek is suave, First Kiss, Fluff, Human Derek Hale, Insecure Stiles, M/M, Matchmaker Erica, SO MUCH FLUFF, Virgin Stiles, in every sense of the word, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1303027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wait_for_it/pseuds/wait_for_it
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles should really start reading everything he signs... especially if it's from Erica.</p><p> </p><p>*inspired by the 20 strangers kissing video</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Me Just Once For Luck (These Are Desperate Measures)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the FIRST KISS video that's been going around. If you don't know what I'm talking about, or just want to re-watch it, here's the link: 
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IpbDHxCV29A
> 
> Title taken from "Desperate Measures" by Marianas Trench. (surprise surprise)

Stiles doesn’t know why he did it. Ok, yes he does. Even 20 bucks is a godsend to a poor college student, and he has a couple hours between classes that he never knows what to do with. It had seemed like the perfect distraction at the time.

 

Now? Not so much.

 

“So what did you say this video was about again?” he asks suspiciously. “It’s not a porno is it? There were some very specific— _personal—_ questions in that questionnaire you had me do.”

 

Erica grins wolfishly over her should at him as she leads him into a relatively empty warehouse space. And by relatively empty he means there’s a draped curtain against the back wall and floor, surrounded by some camera/sound/lighting equipment and nothing else.

 

“You wish,” She very unhelpfully answers. “Did you even read the package I gave you?”

 

“Of course!” Stiles is frankly insulted at the implication. Erica raises a single judgmental eyebrow and he deflates.

 

“I mean, I read the questions. When I filled them out. Not the first bunch of pages at the beginning with all the legal and sociological jargon and stuff, that looked boring.” Erica, damn her, doesn’t even look surprised and just starts fiddling with the three cameras set up around the curtain.

 

“That was the informed consent _page_ —singular— _which you signed_ , stating everything we’re going to do and why.”

 

“Why bother reading a whole page, when I have you to tell me all about it in 30 words or less?” he wiggles his eyebrows at her seductively.

 

“You’re ridiculous.” She shoots back, obviously unmoved as she grabs him by the shoulders and manhandles him onto an X that’s been taped to the centre of the curtain covered section of floor. “All we’re doing is filming 10 pairs of strangers meeting for the first time. Now stay there, I’m going to go grab the guy we paired you with so we can get started. It’ll just be the two of you, so you don’t have to worry about anyone behind the cameras.” The soothing pitch her voice takes at the end has Stiles squinting at her in suspicion.

 

“We meet? That’s it? That’s all we’re doing?” he probes as she starts walking away, leaving him standing front and centre between the draped wall and the main camera. She opens a door off to the side of the curtain and Stiles assumes she’s just going to ignore him, but then she sticks her head back around the doorframe with a smirk that fills him with dread.

 

“Well, that and make out.” Stiles is too gobsmacked to do anything more than sputter incoherently. Erica honest-to-god _cackles._ “Should’ve read the consent form Stilinski!” She shouts, punctuated by the ominous clang of the door shutting behind her.

 

Stiles then promptly spends the next five minutes hyperventilating.

 

By the time he’s calm enough to think straight, the door Erica left through is opening again, leaving him no time left to make a break for it without looking like a dick. He closes his eyes and breathes deep, psyching himself up for the inevitable clusterfuck he knows this will turn into. A throat clears and Stiles opens his eyes to see-

 

“Holy- wow you are way out of my league.” He blurts out. The verifiable _Greek god_ standing in front of him raises his eyebrows in surprise. Why, Stiles doesn’t know because he probably gets it all the time, what with those _eyes_ and _cheekbones_ and _stubble_ and _arms_ and _eyes_. Did he mention the eyes?

 

“Oh my god, who even picked these pairings? I am so sorry you were stuck with me dude. I mean, I've never even done this before." Stiles admits, hands waving uncontrollably between them. The corners of Greek god’s lips— _full, delicious_ looking lips—quirk up slightly and Stiles very seriously considers the possibility that he’s died and gone to Heaven. Or Elysium.

 

"Honestly I'd be surprised if you had-" Sweet baby Jesus, even his voice is good-looking.

 

"No! I mean I've never even kissed anybody before.” Stiles feels the blush spread up his face at his stupid, if no less true, outburst. “Uh, unless that’s what you meant, in which case rude! But then, I can't really blame you because, well, it is true so... oh god, I'm sorry.” He slaps a hand over his eyes in mortification. This is going even worse than he’d imagined, and he hasn’t even given Greek god the chance to speak more than one thing. God, this was a disaster.

 

“I'll just- I should probably go find someone to swap places with me. I don't even know why I agreed to do this. I really am sorry dude." He blindly turns in what he hopes is the vague direction of the door, hand still over his eyes. But before he can take a step, another hand grips him gently by the wrist and guides him back around. Stiles blinks in surprise because no way can those sea-foam-green eyes be real, and that close to him, _willingly_.

 

"Hey, if I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be.” Greek god says quietly as he looks from deep into Stiles’ eyes, to where they’re now practically holding hands, and back up again. “No one's forcing anyone to do anything they don't want; that was part of the contract. So, if your only objection is that you don’t think that you’re attractive, or experienced, enough-which is ridiculous by the way-… would it be ok if I kissed you now?" Green eyes flit down to Stiles mouth briefly, breaking what Stiles would swear was practically a trance, and giving him enough time to stammer out a response.

 

"Well, uh, I mean, yeah, sure. Y’know, if you, uh, want-" Stiles only has enough time to be blinded by Greek God’s smile before a hand is gently cupping his head and a pair of soft lips descend upon his own.

 

Greek god’s lips are slightly chapped, but no less delicious than what Stiles had imagined when he saw that first hint of a smile. They’re firm yet somehow also supple, tasting faintly of coffee and mint, and Stiles can’t help but want to savour and devour all at once. Greek god has been gentle and guiding so far but Stiles yearns for more. So with the hand not still being held, he blindly grasps at the leather jacket in front of him and pushes into the firm body against him, opening his lips in invitation. Greek breathes out a surprised groan and enthusiastically follows Stiles’ lead, deepening the kiss.

 

Stiles kind of loses time after that, lost in a haze of tongues, teeth, and heat. And for something he’s never done before, it sure feels right, this kissing business. Eventually, when he can feel the kiss naturally winding down, to avoid looking too much like the inexperienced and desperate virgin he is, Stiles pulls away first.

 

"Um wow ok. That was...good. Yeah." He murmurs between heavy breaths as he rests his forehead against Greek’s. And God, he really should learn the guy’s name.

 

"Derek Hale." Greek god’s voice is slightly hoarser than before they started and Stiles feels an overwhelming sense of pride at having been the one responsible. So proud, in fact, that he barely catches what the other man is actually saying.

 

"Whu?" he asks, brain functions slowly returning. Greek god doesn’t seem to mind much, judging by the shy smile he’s currently shooting Stiles.

 

"My name; It’s Derek Hale." He repeats.

 

"Oh! Um, I’m Stiles. Stilinski." Stiles replies, breathing pretty much back to normal, even if his heart rate isn’t. “Pleasure to uh, ‘meet you’ Derek.” He adds, because it really, _really,_ is. Derek pulls back slightly, and Stiles starts to worry that maybe the feeling isn’t mutual when Derek graces him with another blinding smile.

 

"So Stiles, wanna go out for coffee some time?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Might do this from Derek's pov, depending on reception. So, hope you like it!


End file.
